


I Don't Care

by ELL10TTE



Category: Kagerou Project, Mekakucity Actors
Genre: I Don't Even Know, Oh My God, Other, Self-Harm, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Why Did I Write This?, this is really bad, ugh just dont oh my god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:31:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2171172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ELL10TTE/pseuds/ELL10TTE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Shintaro Kisaragi realizes that he doesn't have emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Care

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god i dont even know ive been in a mood lately like a suicidal depression mood and i wrote this so i dont know fuck. uh. Im sorry i dont know what this is.  
> the chat logs (as few as they are) were taken from my friend and i's thing last night just saying i dont know damn i freaked myself out with this one  
> basically shintaro thinks he's emotionless and then conversations with haruka and then shit hits the fan. basically.  
> this is really bad im sorry

It was early in the afternoon and somewhere between hour three and four of mindlessly browsing the internet when Shintaro realized that he didn't have emotions. He was lying on his bed flicking through some website on his laptop and his elbows were starting to hurt from propping himself up so he rolled over-- and that's when he realized it. He didn't have any emotions.

Shintaro tried to gather his thoughts. What the fuck? Of course I have emotions, he thought. Where did that thought come from? He threw his arms over his head and let them hang over the side of the bed. His shoulder cracked slightly, the joint readjusting to the uncomfortable position. Shintaro ran a hand over the bumps and raised ridges littering his stomach. He had to strain his neck to see them, but he didn't really care. He moved his hand about, ghosting his fingers over scars and scabs. Pink. Red. Pretty.

He pried the side of a scab off his pale skin, watching as the red beaded along the cut. Shallow wounds, shallow wounds. Shintaro felt the groove that his hip bone carved into his stomach, dancing his fingers up and down the pale flesh so lightly that it tickled. He lost himself in his thoughts slowly. Emotions. Now that he thought about it, it kind of was true. He never felt happiness, at least he never felt any happier at one in time than at another. His sorrow was paper-thin, and as long as he didn't dwell on it, it was like it didn't exist. There was nothing in the world, no feeling or semblance of feeling that just sitting on his computer and doing absolutely nothing couldn't erase. It was like he was an empty shell, he realized. He was like a mask. 

People often talked about _wearing_ a mask, but Shintaro was the mask itself. He showed happiness, he showed sadness. He laughed and he cried. But on the inside he was hollow. There was nothing there.

The thought seemed to depress him, but even that was a fake too, he thought.

If there was one thing he felt, it was boredom. Everything was boredom. The hollow void that he retreated into was boredom, the emptiness that could be mistaken for lack of emotion was boredom. Even the heaviness, the pressure that sat on his chest and demanded to be felt, even the jittery, anxiety-filled _something_ that compressed his ribs and his lungs until he couldn't breathe, that aching that nearly drove him insane. The whatever-it-was, that _thing_ that made him want to mark up his skin and slice his flesh to ribbons. That was boredom too.

Examples, Shintaro thought. Examples, examples. The chat.

Yes, the chat.

The first time he'd ever told anyone about his issues.

He and Haruka opened a chat once, just the two of them. And at first they were just talking and joking about until Shintaro off-handedly mentioned it. The thing.

 

kshintaro -- [20:03] yeah but like

kshintaro -- [20:03] you have no idea how stressed i am like

kshintaro -- [20:03] ive thought about suicide and yeah i do that a lot but this time i MEANT it like i was actually going to do it but i didnt so what the hell

kshintaro -- [20:04] but like whatever, right? right i hate living but i dont want to die and i don't know what im doing but whatever

 

It had understandably taken a few moments for Haruka to reply and in those few moments Shintaro never once realized what he was doing. He stumbled along in the haze that followed him everywhere he went not realizing anything until Haruka finally replied.

 

kharuka -- [20:07] what

kharuka -- [20:07] woah

kharuka -- [20:08] um

 

And then they talked. It was forced and awkward and terrible for everyone involved, but they talked. And Haruka, poor, poor Haruka who just wanted to help, kept asking what he could do. What can I do? What can I do? I want to help! Shintaro was confused for a moment.

 

kshintaro -- [20:22] help with what?

 

Haruka copy-pasted what Shintaro had typed. 'that' he said. Haruka waited for Shintaro's reply and Shintaro was crafting one but before he could press enter, Haruka typed something else.

 

kharuka -- [20:23] wait fuck

kharuka -- [20:23] oh shit fuck uh

kharuka -- [20:23] i just forced that crazy hard uh

kharuka -- [20:24] oh god uh dont hate me fuck

 

Shintaro blinked at the screen, the unnatural white glow starting to hurt his eyes. 'i dont hate you' he entered. Why would he? Haruka hadn't done anything. He was just trying to help. He didn't hate him, he didn't feel anything about him. He didn't feel anything at all. 'oh, its fine.' he typed. 'i dont have a spine anyways. just whatever you want, i dont care.' He considered sending the message for real. What would the response be? Probably panic. Probably the feeling that he'd done something wrong, at least on Haruka's part. He'd probably make a mess of trying to salvage their friendship, he'd probably tiptoe around Shintaro until the end of time, like he was made of glass or something. No, Shintaro thought. It'd be much easier if I didn't say anything at all.

I don't have emotions, Shintaro conceded. Okay. So what? he asked himself. So how do I feel about this?

Nothing. He didn't feel anything. He didn't have emotions after all. Shintaro picked up the razor lying carelessly on his nightstand.

He was a mask. He was empty. Shintaro simply couldn't feel a thing. He ran the blade along his wrist several times. He pushed hard, dragging it up and down the length of his arm, getting blood on his fingers and digging the blade deeper, deeper. I don't care, he told himself. I don't care, I don't care.

He dropped the gore-covered blade onto the floor and watched as gravity pulled the blood down his arm. He watched as the blood streamed out of the cuts, running down his fingers in rivulets. The red looked so bright against his pale skin, he thought. There sure is a lot of it, he thought. Red, he thought. He thought, he thought, he thought, until he didn't even notice that he wasn't thinking anymore. Until his brain couldn't produce anymore thoughts.

"How do you feel about this..." his slurring voice was no more than a whisper, trying to force the sounds past his lips was the greatest challenge he'd ever faced. "How do I feel...?" His head dropped over the side of the bed. 

I don't care, he thought.

I don't have feelings anyways.


End file.
